Red:  Werewolf Hunter    Final Vengeance
by Stretch Snodgrass
Summary: In "real life," all the Werewolf Hunters had lived.  Virginia and Nathan ruminate on past events as they exterminate the world's last werewolves.  Reviews greatly appreciated.
1. The Hunters

**The Hunters**

_Not my usual fan fiction fare (even when considering I haven't written all that many). My girlfriend didn't really like the ending of Red: Werewolf Hunter - and I'm also a sucker. So here's an alternate ending and what happened next. Idea of a movie based on real events was from the Real Ghostbusters. Action in Chapter 2._

Nathan winced.

Yeah, he hadn't meant to, but this hit too close to home. He may have been a top FBI agent, but he was still human - and Thank God for that.

The actor playing him had just been stabbed dead by the actress playing Virginia. Bad enough the actor was a dead ringer for him - and the actress _almost _as hot as Virginia. But no. The worst thing about it was this was what easily _could have _happened.

Yeah, the movie had screwed over what happened at the end - added drama, angst and all that shit - but it was all too accurate at the beginning. Nathan went pale when he watched the scenes where his character had "turned" - even now he had seen red in any scene where he saw the bastard who had done _that _to him.

Yeah, but the worst was that ending . . .

"You okay?" asked Virginia, sweetly, stroking his face.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "It didn't happen . . . Thank God, it didn't end that way."

They were sitting on sofa in the apartment they were sharing. When the last of their work was done . . . it should be any day now . . . they'd plan a wedding. Get on with their lives.

He put his arm around her. He thought "If it had come to that . . . it would have had to come down that way."

It would be her duty - and he hoped he would have had the balls to tell her to kill him.

As it was, that final showdown at the Sullivan House had never happened. Jake, Luke and Virginia were experienced hunters. Yes, they _had_ been trapped in the meat plant - Jake and Luke had been _hunted _in some sick version of The Most Dangerous Game. Yeah, but they had won.

Luke hadn't been ripped apart from some damned werewolf hiding in a tree. He had killed the wolves singlehandedly. Jake, kid that he was (what was he - nineteen, twenty?), was able to kill that bastard with a silver knife. Come on - they were experts with this thing. Some Goddamn old man in a battered hat wasn't immune to silver in the heart - and karate kicks to the head.

About that time _Nathan's _nightmare was over. He awoke - or something - naked but human, although the full moon was still shining high. Virginia's grandmother was still standing guarding him with a double barrelled shotgun.

With some reluctance she released him (that cage they had locked him in hadn't been the piece of crap they showed in the movie - not to mention that besides drugging him, they had handcuffed him, barred the cage with silver, and chained it shut with a couple heavy padlocks).

Nathan had quickly dressed, feeling steamed at having "turned" and become a liability to the Sullivans instead of an ally in killing those goddamned creatures.

About that time Luke had come in for more weapons. Nathan joined Luke, taking his truck, several guns - and storming the werewolves as dawn was breaking.

You'd think _the wolves_ would have the sense to use guns against the Sullivan. But they were ripe for the picking without their leader. Not a single one of the pack left alive.

And Nathan couldn't have enjoyed killing the bastards more. They had it coming . . . they lived to murder and tear to shreds . . . after all, _he was never like them__ . . . ._

Again, he winced.

"Why'd Jake sell the story anyway," Nathan groaned, shutting off the T.V. "And why did he have to get everything backward."

Nathan absentmindedly checked his Blackberry.

"Jake's always been . . . unorthodox," said Virginia. "You should have seen my grandmother, or Greg, when they found out he sold it as a script. Jake's excuse was he thought no one would believe it - and he decided he could use the money."

"O.K., but why did he kill everybody off - but you," Nathan asked.

"It could have happened that way," said Virginia quietly, not having enjoyed seeing her "family" mauled. "But it wasn't Jake's idea - it was the producers."

"He could have at least changed the names before he tried to sell that draft," she added.

"Yeah, whatever happened to the names were changed to protect the innocent" said Nathan ironically.

"To Hell with it," he added suddenly, putting down his cell and looking at Virgina. "What matters is that they're dead - there's only one pack left in the world and we've killed most of those damned monsters."

He gripped her warm body in his arms, and kissed her tender lips.


	2. Final Vengeance

**Final Vengeance**

A flash of moonlight . . . a werewolf howling. . . the woods . . . for an instant, these images paralysed Nathan's conscienceness.

No, he wasn't a werewolf, Hell no. Nathan gave the finger to the full moon shining ineffectually overhead.

Yeah, but like Virginia's grandmother had said - he was goddamn contaminated for the rest of his life. Flashes of light, distorted sounds, subliminal _instinct _had screwed with him on and off over the past year. But it hadn't gotten worse and . . . thankfully . . . it was rare.

Nathan refocused when he realized Virginia was next to him.

"FBI by day," Nathan quipped to Virginia, "Werewolf hunting vigilante by night."

"Just don't put a bullet into your self yet," Greg said wryly.

It was all too clear to Greg that his prospective brother-in-law had suffered from one of his attacks. Greg was still wary of Nathan - although he had long been cured, and had taken their war with the monsters as his own.

Finding the world's last pack had been the doing of Virginia and Nathan. Going through federal files, finding some unexplained murders, looking through the Sullivan's books - had pinned the last werewolves hiding in plain sight in the same city Nathan held down his day job.

It had been daunting at first. No werewolf pack had lived in a city for - hundreds of years, if ever. You couldn't shoot them in broad daylight - couldn't identify them with silver pellets.

At last, they had figured out the _modus operandi._ With a lot of spying, too little hunting - as Greg critically judged their strategy.

These werewolves couldn't shape change at will - merely hunting in a pack when the moon was full. Mostly in a derelict industrial area. The wolves were highly murderous - no one bitten had ever lived to see the light of day.

Originally, there had been sixty at the most. Now, the unsuspecting wolves had been brought down to five through steady hunting during the nights of the full moon.

Dangerous work - but the only way it could be done around here.

Virginia and her brothers looked warily into the murky darkness of a desolate side street. In front of them was the crumbling building where they had heard the howls of the creatures.

Nathan continued to walk to the right side of Virginia. He fought the urge to whistle. One thing the movie _had _done was reinforce his rage. Manically, he was looking forward to this final showdown.

The building was an old office building of red brick, attached to some factory. This dump was abandoned for something like twenty, twenty-five, thirty years. There was grass growing in the cement parking lot out back. The windows on the upper floors were smashed. The windows and doors on the bottom floor were boarded up. The bricks were broken. There had been a fire escape. It had rusted through and collapsed onto the weeds below. The factory's brick chimneys slanted to the side. The whole heap was ready to fall into the harbour alongside.

Virginia made her way carefully inside through a broken door. Her brothers and Nathan followed, flashlights and weaponry in hand.

The building had a large lobby - a five storey roof - the upper floors bordering on the lobby with elaborately carved, broken, and smashed balustrades.

Not surprisingly, they had walked into an ambush. Three of the creatures jumped down from the second floor.

Virginia gunned one of them down, watching it burst into flames as it incinerated. The movie had gotten the creatures wrong - she wondered if they had asked Jake (Jake roasted another as she thought). In reality, the creatures were definitely heavier and more wolflike - through, to an expert, subject to a slight clumsiness of action resulting from being a human size quadruped which - still - preferred to attack on two feet.

Greg got his target - and watched as it went up in flames.

"Two to go," said Nathan.

"Let's split up," said Greg.

"Not a good idea," said Virginia.

They stopped to argue - but two on two (at the most) seemed good odds.

"Come on - us two'll go upstairs," said Nathan.

He started climbing the groaning stairs - Virginia behind him.

They reached the top floor, no results.

"This may be my last chance to try this," Virginia said.

She had thought the idea stupid - but it couldn't hurt to try it _now_. She had no doubt her idea had been originally inspired by Nathan's bad habit of whistling while hunting.

Nathan glanced at her. Slickly dressed in black, thin but elegant with long vibrant red hair. The love of his life.

To his surprise, he saw he take a small silver whistle out of her pocket. She blew it . . . it was silent.

"Dog-whistle?" asked Nathan.

"Yes," she nodded. "It may work - it might not."

There were a couple of howls - and in an instant the last two werewolves had burst through a rotting mahogany door.

One lunged toward Virginia, knocking down Nathan in the process. She scrambled back toward the broken balustrade. At the last moment she jumped up, and lightly manoeuvred around the lumbering creature. She shot it twice - once in the head, once in the heart - it burned up, and its charred remains fell against the railing and to the lobby four stories below.

Nathan had been brought down, he also dived to avoid the swipe of the wolf's claws. Though in his case he tripped on the creature's tail in the effort.

He was only spilled over for a second. Now he turned to sternly face the monster before him. Quickly, he emptied a round of bullets in - his eyes filled with fanatical hatred.

"Almost inhuman." Virginia worried.

Nathan's hatred, however, was from a very human wish for vengeance.

"For Virginia's parents," he thought. "For all the other innocent victims over the years." "For _making me one of your damned type_." "_Trying to make me a murderer_." _"For setting me up to be kill or be killed by Red and her family_."

This wolf burst into flames - and exploded.

Sometime after, the two of them joined the Sullivan brother outside.

The full moon still shone high - mysteriously, it was blood red although there was no eclipse that night.

Some sort of sign, Virginia guessed. She was right.

"It's over - they're history," said Jake.

The Sullivan brothers, and Nathan, high fived.

"You're family," said Greg. "But I'm still gonna have to keep an eye on you."

"Ah, don't listen to him," Jake joked to Nathan. "He just wants another wolf to kill."

Nathan shrugged. "It'll be a cold day in hell before you'll find _me_ howling at the moon."

"Don't worry, you'll win Greg over again," Virginia told him later.

"Hey, I don't give a damn," Nathan replied, as they walked to their apartment. "I'm back where I started. Rising FBI agent. Werewolves don't exist - anymore.

He looked at her as they entered the lobby of the building.

Vibrant. Shapely. Smart. Brilliant red hair.

"And I've got you," he said, embracing her.

It had been a long night - he wasn't tired, but still eager to get to their apartment.


End file.
